


How To Save A Life

by hoechlinitis



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-26 06:02:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/647366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoechlinitis/pseuds/hoechlinitis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel always felt like an outsider, he didn’t understand people one bit, he felt as if his family were at loss as to what to think or do with him. He didn’t fit. Dean felt as if he had one task in life, and that was to raise his little brother Sammy, that is until he meets a naive set of jewel blue eyes, and things get more complicated than he could imagine. They grow, they learn, and ultimately they fit together</p>
            </blockquote>





	How To Save A Life

Castiel’s intense, crystal blue chipped eyes were hovering over the short, dirty blonde feathery hairs on the back of Dean Winchester’s unmoving head. His thoughts were built around the idea of looking into Dean’s bottle green eyes, above the sun kissed skin flowered with fresh freckles and finding every manner of acceptance there. Discovering something that he seemed to crave but not particularly seek. There was something in Dean’s face, whether it be the perfect placement of his attractive features, or the way his eyes were so fiercely honest it took great courage to battle them with your own; but girls giggled and swooned in his presence, and boys respected him, secretly jealous of the persona Dean had and the fact they themselves couldn’t be like him. To be like Dean would take a lifetime to learn. As much as Castiel dreamed, as much as he desired any sort of attention from the best quarterback this school had ever seen, the facts were unfortunately held firmly against him. Dean was never going to talk to him, the geek with the big glasses and the awkward staring habit. It wasn’t that Castiel didn’t know how to socialise properly, it was that he found it ridiculously tough to maintain the facade of actually wanting to communicate. Whilst his day dreaming continued in a very obvious manner, his older brother, Michael, glared at Castiel from the seat beside him. His fiery eyes scorned his brothers inability to be normal, to stop being so embarrassing. With no warning, his rough hand flew up and smashed Castiel hard in the back of the skull, causing Castiel to lurch forward in his chair and the table directly in front of him to impale his stomach agonizingly, his feet flying forward in an unexplainable attempt to prevent the table from chopping him in two. 

Through the haze of the pain and the irritating laughter coming from beside him, he almost choked when he tilted his head upwards, finding those infamous green eyes set on him fiercely. Castiel found it hard to breath, not just from the pain of the piercing table edge, but due to the way he found himself drowning in green, It was everywhere, in his mouth, in his hair, in his nose; there was no escape. He fought the urge to bolt for the exit.   
“Sorry” Castiel murmured, feeling the heat raising to his face, causing his cheeks to almost scream with embarrassment. Dean wasn’t particularly annoyed, he just didn’t really enjoy being kicked in the back, but after finding the pair of innocent blue eyes surrounded by a tomato red face, he let it go instantly. His eyes flicked to Michael, his obnoxious left winger, who sat snickering to himself beside the blue eyed one, then back towards the poor guy placed behind him, before Dean swung back to sit straight, his head full with the thought of his little brother and his upcoming game. When the bell rang, shrill and piercing, Castiel scrambled from the room immediately, the sound of the bell still swimming around them as he practically ran out of the door. Castiel hated embarrassment, and he thought that the faster he got away from that room and his brother and that damned Winchester, the faster that absurd emotion would release him from its overwhelming hold.   
The last few classes of the dragging day seemed to skim Castiel’s attention, he felt as if the entire world was passing by and he was just in the mist it all, watching it vaguely roll by. So when the final bell rang, the sound not as shrill as it called out freedom, the ropes of school unknotted themselves from his insides and he felt that flash of freedom waltz through his mind until lightening struck it down harshly. That lightening being his family. Castiel almost bounced with joy when he recalled that it was the start of the week, meaning he was able to spend most of his free time at the library, hidden from the stares of his family and the sneers of his brothers. It was not until Wednesday night that he would have to physically turn up for dinner. He felt safe inside the pages of the books, the words weren’t there to harm him or insult him, they were there for him in a neutral sense. However strange and unnatural it seemed, Castiel felt more at home in the library then he did at his actual house. Most of that was down to the fact that he knew his siblings had probably never even set foot in a library. 

His feet carried him swiftly away from the block of science buildings whilst his thoughts buzzed around what new book he could start, he’d recently finished the final book from his important list, so he had the choice of any from his semi-important list and the excitement was akin to sadness when he comprehended that other kids got excited after school because it meant they could hang around with their friends or play football or listen to music, but Castiel reminded himself dejectedly that he wasn’t much like other kids. Everything, his unfinished thoughts of where his semi-important reading list actually was, and his deep feeling of satisfaction at knowing the only thing waiting for him now was the library; all of that tumbled away when his body crashed against the familiar and unwanted curve of his older but not oldest brother, Gabriel. Castiel quickly jumped back, taking a step sideways to swerve around the surplus interjection, but Gabriel mirrored his movement and didn’t stop until Castiel huffed exasperatedly, voicing his discomfort.   
“Could you just move out of my way?” His voice was small and awkward against Gabriel’s booming laughter. It surrounded him like being the subject of Dean’s stare had.  
“No can do, brother” Gabriel retorted, his laughter coming to a halt as he bent slightly to level with Castiel’s eyes. “Michael and I want a chat, don’t look so unhappy” He finished, slapping the back of Castiel’s neck, leaving his hand there and using his wrist to guide Castiel around the sharp corner of the side gates.   
“I don’t want to talk” Castiel told him sternly. It was no use. It was never any use.   
“Tough” Gabriel snarled, pushing him forward to the feet of Michael. Castiel felt he had been thrown to the lions as his books fell from his arm and his bag slipped of his shoulder, yanking his arm down violently. He stood timid and motionless before Michael, feeling like a child when he thought of how much taller and over powering his brother looked compared to him. 

“Castiel.” Michael formed his name in such a way that Castiel wanted to run and hide in the corner of some floating island and never ever be found, seldom. “How’s my little gay brother?” He spat viciously. Castiel reared back from Michael, finding only the betraying hands of Gabriel who pushed him back towards the wild beast.   
“I’m not-” Castiel moaned, fed up of this. He never fit in because his brothers never allowed him to.  
“Oh but you are. Don’t you remember the way you were staring at our quarter back, our friend, earlier? You don’t think I’d punch you in the back of the head for no reason, do you?” There was so much venom in his voice that Castiel was afraid he would become paralysed. Instantly, he wanted to laugh at the question. Of course he would punch him, sometimes he thinks that Michael’s heaven would be to punch the living hell out of him and the other people Michael didn’t agree with. Castiel knew better than to make a joke out of that.  
“You don’t own him, y’know” Castiel snapped defensively. The laughter stung his eardrums, but not half as much as the blow to his jaw did. 

Dean leaned down quickly, helping Sam zip the rest of his coat up, struggling for a mere second as Sam had gotten it so jammed he had to unzip it to actually zip it up. The heat from the Californian air was beginning to fade and he knew from experience how much Sam hated the cold, or even the wind. There was that one time when it had unexpectedly rained, and they were waiting so long for their dad to pick them up that Dean though his toes were going to fall off. Sam had cried into his shoulder so loudly Dean wanted to scream himself. He’d wrapped his arms around his little brother and held him close, asking what was wrong, what he could do to make him feel better and after batting around the obvious, ‘make dad get here quicker’ and ‘stop the rain’, Sam had finally said, ‘Make the cold go away’ and the only thing Dean had thought to do was remove his own jacket and place it over Sam’s already soaking one. He knew that it wouldn’t make much difference, and it almost drowned Sam’s limbs, but it stopped him from crying and at that point that was all that Dean wanted. 

Dean stood straight again, his hand falling on Sam’s shoulder as they fell into step, heading for the side gates where they were able to catch the path and get home in under twenty minutes. As he quizzed his younger brother on how his day had gone and the things he had learnt in class, Dean’s eyes fell upon the commotion just behind the gates. As they ventured closer, Dean’s comments grew shorter as his interest descended straight towards the boy with the glasses, his left winger and striker. He knew for a fact that they were the definition of bully’s, that they were jack asses and they didn’t take no as an answer. He didn’t pretend to get along with them, but they seemed to respect him and for the sake of his place on the football team, Dean didn’t bother to teach them a lesson. From what he could see, the fighting seemed a little one sided, and the guys from his team weren’t at all being fair. There was shouting and punches and unmistakable injuries, mostly inflicted upon the boy with the glasses. Dean recognised him from his classes, but he didn’t actually know his name. 

After another minute, his team mates had rallied their pray to the ground and were yelling so furiously that it made Dean want to kick them in the head so solid that they wouldn’t be able to take part in any type of team sport. He witnessed the boy on the ground shuffle slightly, before his leg raised up and made contact with Gabriel’s chest. Dean knew that that boy wasn’t going to survive if he didn’t help in some way, so he once again leant down to his brother, meeting his eyes with a steady but ordering stare.   
“Stay here aright, just stay here and wait. Don’t follow me, okay Sammy?” and as quick as it took Sam to nod at his brother, his longish hair falling just above his eye, Dean was sailing towards the scene. 

“Why can’t you just be normal?” Michael was roaring, his body held frighteningly close over his victims. As his fist rolled up, clenching so tight that his knuckles turned white, Dean clasped his fingers around his wrist, pushing Gabriel away with his free hand. As Gabriel knew he had no chance against Dean, he backed off slightly although the eagerness he held for throwing another punch didn’t leave his body.   
“That’s enough” Dean told Michael firmly. Michael scrunched his face in disbelief, his eyes roaming over Deans face, before the lines in his forehead disappeared completely.  
“Get off me, Winchester” He bellowed, his teeth a brilliant white against the angry red of his face. Dean’s hand over Michael’s wrist tightened even further.  
“Just let him go, Michael.” Dean ordered, pushing at Michaels fist this time, attempting to lead him away, to get him a safe distance from the crumple of a body below them.   
“This is all your fault anyway, Winchester. Ever since you arrived in town, everything seems to be about you. You stole my position as quarterback, you know that!” Michael howled ferociously. 

“You’ve told me plenty of times. Now if you know what’s good for you, you’ll get the hell out of here before I steal your position as left winger as well.” And because Michael wasn’t stupid, and he knew that if he threw one punch at Dean he was out of the team in an instant, he slowly, reluctantly stepped backwards. He shot his brother a quick glance before giving Dean one last fatal glare and turning away from him, Gabriel following his brother down the road like the lap dog everyone knew he was.  
Dean’s focus was switched straight to the body below him, curled up on the ground. Dean recognised the sound of pain, he knew the sound well, and with the softest touch he could manage, Dean swooped an arm beneath the thin boys shoulders and hauled him up, careful not to press against any of him just in case. As Dean held the groaning boy’s shoulders firmly, he tried hard to find his eyes, which were hidden and twisted with pain beneath his broken glasses.   
“Let’s get you patched up” Dean offers him tenderly, but it was more an order than a suggestion. As easily and measured as he could manage, Dean led the victim through the school buildings, his head whipping back every few seconds to check Sam was on their tail. He soon recognised the outer building of the Sports block, which included the gym and the locker rooms, tiny swimming pool and mainly a lot of storage rooms. Dean knew where they were headed, but the boy in his arms seemed to struggle slightly with the walk and he began to wheeze and cough constantly. Tucking an arm under one of Castiel’s, he supports his weigh entirely, almost dragging him through the doors and straight to the first bench in sight. 

“Sammy, go around this corner and grab that green box with the white cross on it,” Dean ordered, pointing in the opposite direction.   
“The first aid box above the counter?” He asks, catching on.   
“Yeah, that one” Dean nodded, turning back towards Castiel and examining his injuries.   
“Jeez, you’re pretty banged up.” He comments, his eyes falling on the growing bruises beneath Castiel’s jaw. He doesn’t get a response, and suddenly he realises that throughout all the fighting and happenings of the long and stressful day he feels slightly trapped in, he doesn’t even know this kids name.   
“Sorry if it sounds rude, but what’s your name, anyway?” Dean sounds wary, although he doesn’t exactly know why that is. He doesn’t want this kid to think he’s some stuck up jerk, he stopped him getting seriously injured though, so Dean figures that he can’t think too badly of him, at least not presently.  
“Castiel.” Castiel murmurs, wincing a touch, as if even talking was painful.   
“Castiel, that’s different” Dean tips his head sideways, “Castiel” He repeats, liking the way the name fits on his tongue, the way the syllables twine together creatively.  
“You know, I can fight my own battles. I don’t need a hero, especially not to save me from my own brothers” Castiel mutters harshly, his anger flaring inside his chest, he thinks that soon it might burst out and engulf everyone around him. But not quite yet because his bones are aching and his head won’t stop pounding, but he knew that wasn’t just from the punches.

“Brothers,” Dean recites, his gaze holding on Castiel as he recalls the conversations his team mates have in the locker rooms, the hushes and the harsh opinions. Dean knows that name, he assures himself, he’s heard of this kid. Castiel squirms slightly under Dean’s gaze.  
“Oh Jesus, I’m sorry” He breathes, controlling himself when he notices the atmosphere is incredibly tense, serious in fact, and it’d be an incredibly inappropriate time to laugh. Now Castiel’s the one who tips his head, his eyebrows drawing together to create a confused but overall slightly adorable face. Dean shakes off those thoughts as the sound of footsteps echo around them. Castiel had heard all the comments of his name a thousand and one times, but never had anyone apologised for it.   
Sam returned from around the corner looking pleased with himself, a miniature green box gripped tightly in his small, child hands. Dean quickly ruffled his hair in appreciation and told him to sit somewhere quietly and try starting some of his homework so he could have more time watching telly later. Once again, Castiel and Dean were alone, sat silently opposite one another on the thin, wooden benches between the isles of lockers. Dean leaning forward, peering at Castiel’s face as he rubbed the patches of drying blood and dirt from his face. His hands were slow and gentle, careful not to harm Castiel any further. He lightly dragged a damp cloth over the tight skin beneath Castiel’s left eye, and against everything in his body that told him to stay completely still, almost as though Dean was a wild animal and if Castiel made any vivid movement Dean would freak and bolt, Castiel winced visibly, letting out a ragged breath. Dean instantly froze, staring at Castiel in worry.

“Sorry man, I didn’t mean to press that hard” He promptly explained, holding the cloth a few inches from Castiel’s face. Castiel just shook his head slightly, mumbling a small,   
“S’alright” before meeting Dean’s eyes properly for the first time after Dean had appeared above him, dragging his brothers from him and warning them off.   
Against his will, Castiel tilted his head sideways, something he always did when he was curious. Staring straight back at Dean, his eyebrows drew together.   
“Why did you feel the need to help me, anyway?” He had been running through reasons in his mind the entire time Dean helped him walk to the locker room. Thinking that obviously Dean just felt sorry for him, especially after class today. With that thought, Castiel’s cheeks reddened and he hesitantly looked away, fixing his stare on the poster falling from the door. Dean smiled to himself, a private, loving smile; pondering on his answer before his lips moved in a way that made Castiel forget all the dire things that he managed to find himself going through in his pitiful life.

“Bobby, our Uncle, told me once that I have this thing; where I feel the need to protect people so intensely, that I’d give my life for them. He say’s I get it from my dad, apparently” Dean told him, his voice lowering towards the end in a soft, but misapprehended tone. Castiel processed that, suddenly admiring Dean on a whole new level before furrowing his brow once again.   
“But you don’t even know me” Castiel murmured, wanting to understand but failing so.  
“I guess this means I should change that” Dean retorted, smirking towards Castiel. The motion Dean had adopted with the cloth on his face was soothing, although Castiel knew that there would be nothing left to wipe away. His chest was struggling as he noticed how close they were. So maybe he was slightly in love with Dean, it’s not like anyone needed to know.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first fanfic on this site, and my first supernatural fanfic at all, so tell me exactly what you think and thankyou if you read it at all!


End file.
